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From our apartment in Sendling, Dachau is only 25 minutes away by car. Even though these cities are so close in proximity, Dachau is an astoundingly much older city than Munich. Where as Munich just celebrated its 850th birthday last year, Dachau reached its 1200th in 2005.
We learned that the Dachau Concentration Camp Memorial Site was a former powder and ammunition factory during World War I. The war ended when the Treaty of Versailles was signed and so did the production of ammunition. This made things very bad for workers in Dachau during the 1920s.
How bad? Dachau had the highest unemployment in all of Germany, double the national average. Just as it started to worsen, a new political movement was breaking out in Munich, which led to the formation of the “German Worker’s Party”. The leaders of Dachau abandoned the idea to attract private industry to stimulate their economy and instead chose to convince the Bavarian government to use the old powder and ammunition site for a civilian labor and military camp.* Things unfold from there that were later labeled as “morally corrupt”.
tour
We walked the grounds as a group of 20 some English speakers for two and a half hours. Our guide took us through the history of the camp. I imagined a cauldron of unforeseeable circumstances bubbling in a pit fire beneath tattered shelves barely supporting fragile vials of catalysts.
Reactions were mixed among the group. Most were stoic. Those who seemed in different degrees detached stood out for me the most: With playful disregard, a young man snaps a shot with an extended arm opposite to a goofy smile and a backdrop of barrack outlines. A young college student asks the cognizant German guide if anyone has ever “puked” after walking through Barrack X, to which the puzzled guide responded, has ever what? A new retiree concludes at the end of the tour that all of this resulted from one evil, mad man.
[lg_slideshow folder="2009/08/dachau"]
Is this what it means to be human?
Thinking of all the uniqueness and wonder humans bring to the world, it is hard to image that we are capable of doing this to ourselves. Decades later, we are able to glimpse at our inner beast from almost all angles and still we resort to simplifications. Our collective guilt, our frailties are too much to bear. Can we evolve away from this side of ourselves? Or can we educate ourselves adequately to prevent this from happening again? So far from recent history we have proven we cannot.
Not a rifle-carrying snow bunny at 31 after all
some photos are clickable for maximum viewing
We were invited to see the Biathlon World Cup in Ruhpolding this past weekend. It just so happened to be my birthday weekend too. We figured it was a good idea: something different, something wintry, something like hot guys in tight Lycra. But as you can see from this here first impression photo, I came close to hating it.
The whole event may have not been my thing -stand in one place bored for hours while occasionally mustering up a whoohoo for the German chick duo and Norwegian dude -and what I hated most was the time I fought to keep my toes from going numb in zero degree weather. Low temperatures mean: I needed to move.
I think if the organiser had any inkling of how to entertaining a record crowd I would have enjoyed it without any effort on my part. And afterall, it was MY birthday and that’s what I wanted most: effortlessness and fun. But instead I made the most of it, put on my blog-o-tainment smile and set out to subjectively catalog my experience.
For 25 Euro a pop to stand around for hours between events there could have been:
More screens around the track so we could see the rife shooting and feel a part of the race.
Diversify the Music. Even the most die hard of fans were tiring of the same three marching Schlager songs of similar beat. Although I did get a kick out of seeing Alex’s dad scream out, ‘Joanne, du dreck Sau!’ I guess every party in Bavaria is an opportunity to relive the Oktoberfest.
Get those new to the sport interested. How heavy is the rifle? What’s it like trying to shoot at a target when your heart rate is over 160.
Yeah, the Germans and the Norwegian got all the attention while they kicked the competition to the bitter wind. But who are these other people besides the top three? They’ve come from all over the world so I imaging they have a story. How hard is it to gather a short biography, a photo and do a little reporting? Tell us who we’re cheering on, we’ve got nothing to do for 3 hours!
After I got over the annoyance that I could have enjoyed the races with just as much enthusiasm from the comfort of my couch, it was time to check out the very thing that made this event interesting, the fans. (I’m guessing the guy in the blue and I were on the same page.)
These are the devotees of the Germans and Norwegians. Every one else is pig fodder. Will the crowd cheer you on if you are from any where else? No, well maybe if you are from Austria.
You recognize them with their collection of biathlon pins from the last 5 years pinned to their hats or their thick winter jackets silkscreened with ‘Magdalena Neuner Fanclub’ on their backs.
This was the biathlon world cup, the best athletes of all nations, but the crowd wasn’t cheering or clapping on the other athletes. Quite a few people turned their heads quizzically toward me after I shouted out “U.S.A.” as the first guy from the US team started his sprint.
As a cross country runner in high school, I really appreciated the crowd on the side lines getting into the competition. Their energy often translated in a personal best for me. I didn’t see this ‘disinterest in the minderwertig (inferior)’ behavior at the 2006 soccer world cup hosted in Germany, so I was baffled by the lack of light encouragement or flat out disturbing silence as the slower athletes glided by in Ruhpolding.
But that was the downside of the fan base. The good side was their ingenuity.
Creative costumes with warmth in mind were a must especially when the wind kicked in. Seasoned people to such winter events brought blocks of Styrofoam to get that extra bit of insulation and vantage point to see the action. As people started to scatter after it was certain that no German had a chance to catch the Norwegian, I got to test the discarded Styrofoam and can vouch that they are effective. What was truly clever was the gourmet sideline grill setup. Nothing beats boredom and the cold like hot sausage.
Other positives? Like I said, men in Lycra.:
All in all, I had fun or let’s say I made it fun. I enjoyed my time and we can even scratch this one in the books as having a pleasant weekend with Alex’s folks. I was disappointed that the Biathlon in Ruhpolding was such an exclusive affair, as if I were crashing a gathering of wannabee military snow snippers, but should I really expect more from Oberbayern?
germans wake up and kick ass
I remember clearly telling Eva: ‘We’re watching the game at home ‘cause I have serious doubts Germany’ll win against Portugal. Wanna come over?’
But they did win. So I guess, we’ll be watching their semi-final match of the European Championship at home again. Because we’re superstitious like that.
Go Germany! Finally you guys coughed up the poison apple you all have choking on for the last two games. Let the Sommermärchen summer fairytale continue..
